


Silent Evening

by kerberys



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I need six shots of vodka after reworking this, I quite literally rewrote everything or changed to a great extent, I'm waiting for people to poke me about the themes lying under all that fluff, M/M, More Fluff, Slice of Life, extremely introspective and philosophical oneshot for being smut and fluff, how to turn 1700 words into 3500 words by accident, more of those cryptic metaphors, perhaps that's exaggerating, so technically I just kept the idea and structure like the original text was a draft for something, this is literally the softest thing i've written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 03:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15877596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerberys/pseuds/kerberys
Summary: A night stand and two cell phones. One of them decided to ring but Ruki was captivated by his thoughts and Aoi busy listening to the silence. Calls were left unanswered.





	Silent Evening

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'm just going to leave this here without any more words, you know, to stay loyal to the theme.

In this world, there were many things Ruki thought he would like to experience. Both little and unnoticeable, and huge and pretentious ones. Little things such as being able to see and big ones like seeing. Despite being inflections of each other, there were strict differences between the two words and their meanings.

When he looked at the man sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, his lips gently parted and black hair protruding to every compass point, Ruki thought about those big things. They were the kind of weird thoughts people often fell into thinking about upon spacing out during a bus ride. Or that's how Ruki saw it, and would turn the ideas and associations in his mind over and over again. Not that they were bothering him, he was just one of those people who liked to think for the sake of thinking.

Even when no one was asking for it.

It was simply how Ruki and his thoughts about certain matters were by nature. Musing about topics like 'what's actually necessary in the world' and 'in which order it all came to be' was to extent a hobby of his by now. More he thought about these trivialities, more valuable Ruki considered many of the things in existence compared to the outlook of common folk. So he laid there in his ever flowing musings about senses and sensations, index finger lazily twisting around a lock of dark strands only a hundredth of shade afar from the man's beside him.

Now if seeing was concerned a little thing, tasting a hunch more than that and smelling winning over them both in it's prominence, the most difficult and biggest thing in existence Ruki could think about, was touching.

His finger had now stopped from moving, hanging in the cradle of black hair formed by the idle motion seconds before. Ruki leant on his arm, eyes intently locked on Aoi who was focused on writing, long, lean fingers parading across the keyboard. The intent gaze on Aoi's face remained even as Ruki changed his position, shuffling to the other end of bed, head next to where Aoi was settled. Well, perhaps few centimetres further, yet nigh enough to know Aoi could simply bend down to close the distance between two faces. Albeit that would likely result in him collapsing on top of Ruki, followed by self-ironic comment frosted with a melodramatic note about old men's backs. Ruki would be mostly amused by it and tell his lover with a lopsided grin and knowing look to shut his mouth, drawing a soft laugh out of Aoi in response.

Ruki closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the subtle but vivid sounds of keys pressing down and rising back up painting a scenery or welcoming a reader to a new town. Before his closed dark forests of eyes, crowds of letters on the glowing screen alternated to a line after another, telling a story even Ruki didn't know about just yet.

Not all the things could be concerned simply big or little. There were also loads of repugnant affairs in this world. He didn't mean to say that the world was solely made of blatant ugliness, but he wouldn't deny how truly beautiful phenomenons were often rare and shrouded from the sight. Depending, of course, how one viewed the aspects of life at hand. Beauty as an adjective, unconditionally, lied in the eyes of the beholder after all.

When regarding to considerations of all that was ugly in his eyes, what Ruki primarily thought about was the evident injustice of humanity. Macabre epitomes of sinful nature, the violence and lies, matters as such. While they, their origins included both fascinated and devastated him, he couldn't but label these issues as embodiments of mentioned ugliness. Humans eighty percent of the time given, tended to abate to acts of gracelessness.

Ruki wasn't indicating he'd be any more than human himself, no. The man was a mortal like any other. He didn't see value in setting himself nor Aoi on a pedestal above those hands reaching towards him and the author. Yet Ruki thought together with Aoi they were something more than crude reflections of humanity. Something more, like touching. Ruki was hardly pretentious, far from the like. He was a mortal human and so was Aoi, in the conclusion of his thoughts. Coated by countless mistakes of the past, traces of acts seen as that of a sin ingrained within one another's skins and ever fluttering hearts.

What two men shared together, was beyond that while still held captive by the rough edges of humaneness, yet quantum.

Without a word, he listened to the typing that filled the whole room, echoing back from the walls of their shared flat. And more Ruki listened to it, more convinced he was that hearing was nearly equally important. When you could hear the voices of silence, you could say you're actually hearing. Until that you were deaf to the world and world was wordless to you.

Just like Aoi's inspiration.

It was wordless, but Aoi wasn't deaf. He listened to that wordlessness as his lean fingers typed the wordless words into the hard drive memory of a 15 inch wide laptop.

A night stand and two cell phones. One of them decided to ring but Ruki was captivated by his thoughts and Aoi busy listening to the silence. Calls were left unanswered.

Beautiful things were rare, but beautiful things could be of either small or huge nature, sometimes even both. At times things to consider beautiful were only partly of the kind, the insides of them found rotten and dirtied to the core. Ruki had met the people who fit the sort of description. Nameless faces offering smiles and cups of coffee, resembling that of Cheshire cats as he chucked down the coffee and responded to the given smile. Not knowing what might happen, not knowing better, humans had a habit of succumbing to the moments of naiveness, such as reaching for a napkin to write down their numbers and years on find themselves bruised, licking the wounds imprinted by sheer mishaps.

He had learned a lot about Cheshire cats over years.

To plainly put it, Ruki thought Aoi was beautiful, but not less or more, small or huge. Aoi was simply Aoi. The author was beautiful in his own peculiar ways Ruki didn't mean just his face. To Ruki, Aoi was a safe haven after years and years of playing shadow tag with Cheshire cats. He wasn't contaminated with his motives like the one with coffee and numbers. Admittedly, he was sometimes vague, but whenever Ruki would wake up to see the coffee Aoi had made for them to drink together from their favourite mugs while looking at the city unfolding before their eyes, he knew why he lived under this particular roof, sharing a small double bed with this man.

Aoi however thought Ruki was even more beautiful and after a while Ruki had stopped fighting him about it, agreeing to disagree but taking the compliment Aoi viewed as a fact. The author was a man of his words and if there was something he wanted, he often made it clear though never in a way as though he'd be ordering Ruki around.

Even so, every now and then Ruki found himself thinking, how he had actually ended up living in this apartment with a man whose days went by in bed or at table, either way writing in an unergonomic posture. Occasionally Ruki would comment on how Aoi needed to straighten his back and the man would look at him and shooti a lopsided smile. The change in posture always lasted for whole thirty seconds before going for another vacation, leaving the author slumped in his typical cross-legged position for another set of hours.

Ruki seldom departed anywhere from the little flat. Sometimes he'd offer to do the groceries or announce about going shopping, even occasionally opting for taking a walk in the park, but often times the balcony of their apartment was just enough. It was high up and he could see the ocean of city lights unfolding into the distance. Ruki liked watching them flicker in the little hours of night while having the last smoke before crawling to the bed and snuggling to the side of Aoi already half asleep.

If he counted correctly by exacts, Ruki would say Aoi turned his laptop off at 9:07pm, but just to be approximate, he decided to stick with nine o'clock. Aoi sighed and rubbed his neck. The man sat in the same position almost bar none whilst writing. Except when he was ill, of course. When Aoi was sick, he didn't write even one row, not lying nor sitting. Ruki simply didn't let him.

Aoi was taller of them two, but when they sat next to each other, it could hardly be seen. Besides, it didn't really matter anyway in either man's books.  
"How can you always wait?" Aoi asked, both inquiring and apologetic looks painted simultaneously across his visage. He was smiling at the same, strong arms reaching to pull the younger man against his smooth chest covered by a simple sleeveless shirt. Black, like the lest of his casual attire.  
"Maybe I've learnt it?" Ruki gave him a knowing smirk and turned around to face Aoi. Surreptitiously a hand moved to touch his cheek and the man closed his eyes as the distance between them closed. Content smiles from both parties were exchanged in the act of a tender kiss.  
"From the silence or me?" Aoi asked between the loving kisses peppered on his lover's lips and corners of mouth, travelling like an adventurer from his chin to the line of jaw before taking a return ticket back to his lips.  
Ruki let himself fell backwards, like shadow before sun escaping Aoi's journeying lips before inviting them back. Settled on his back in their bed that had been left unmade this morning, he pulled the author on top of himself. The mix of cotton and satin felt welcoming as per usual.  
"Both of you", he mouthed the answer as kisses and wandering touches gradually grew deeper and more firm.

Ruki wanted Aoi's touch like a deserted yearning for a drop of water. He wanted the man's hands and mouth all over his figure. Ruki wanted to focus his senses on the tongue drawing wet trails down along his skin. Touching was one of those things he wanted to feel time after another and was never tired of, it was like an addiction. An addiction to the safety of warmth in fellow human being. It was one of those few things Ruki savoured in senses beyond remaining four. Touching, and especially how Aoi and only Aoi touched Ruki. How with every single touch he granted with his hands or tongue or lips, even nose brushing over Ruki's stomach, his whole body leaning against the figure just a tiny bit smaller, Aoi made Ruki feel invaluable and beloved.

His shirt was quickly tossed away and nearly as fast Ruki tore his lover's sleeveless off, clearly heated as he was. Wet kisses continued on their path down on his neck and chest, in seconds reaching his lower stomach and taking a break from travelling there. Ruki's moans were by then overruling the silence nestled in the walls of their bedroom, mixing with the panting drawn from them both. Letting his own fingers travel across the smooth skin of Aoi's chest in return, Ruki pulled the author closer, launching his arms around his shoulders. He sat up, reaching to nibble on Aoi's neck as black strands figuratively tangled with one another. Ruki thought Aoi's locks were notches smoother than his own as he intently run fingers through the deep raven hair, equal in length with his own.

Ruki knew Aoi loved the gesture.

He enjoyed of every single touch Ruki gave him as much as Ruki enjoyed his, and every hint of attention Aoi gave to him. Aoi's face told Ruki every word he was thinking about, and the message on his own face carried the same dispatch. They wanted to break the silence and reach to see beyond the boundlessness of space or even mere parts of it's infinity. They craved for it.

Swiftly Aoi opened Ruki's pants and the younger man complied, lifting his hips up to be sooner rid of the cloth. Those pieces of fabrics were but barriers they needed to abandon for the infinity they both were after. His hands reached down lower, painting pictures without meaning on Aoi's skin until flipping them around abruptly, momentarily settling on the author's lap satisfied grin playing on his face. Ruki loved being a source of relief and delectation for his lover. Not that it was the only aspect he was there for, but acknowledging just how good he was capable of making Aoi feel was something Ruki had learned to take pride for. It hadn't always been that way.

His hands roamed along the man's body, drawing circles on his thighs until tucking the band of Aoi's underwear in ascertainment. It didn't take too long for them both to be rid of the last remaining threads covering their figures. Everything happened as though in harmony, synchronised in a way that where Aoi's hands stopped, Ruki's continued.

Immediately he reached for Aoi's manhood, giving couple of firm strokes while observing the man's face carefully for reaction. He shifted from Aoi's lap, more or less lying between his legs, breathing hot air against the sensitive skin. Ruki lowered his head, kissing the head of throbbing erection right at his reach. Aoi let out a gasp and threw his head back, fingers searching for Ruki's hair to entangle into. He kissed around the shaft, giving a trialling lick and another until actually taking the whole hard on into his mouth. If anything, he knew how to drive the man crazy. Ruki thrived on that, giving his everything to turn Aoi into a mess of words and repressed noises.

Until stopping to a wall for evident denial.

Ruki pulled away and sat up, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist as Aoi reached for him in the speed of rocket and cupped his chin with one hand to invite Ruki into another series of kisses. Before he could even pay mind to it, Aoi had rolled them over. It was Ruki's turn to have a share of tease. It was their preferred way of going about the matters of pleasure, like taking a part in relay race, contributing as much and more, giving what was received.

Ruki found himself short of breath, losing his mind as Aoi dedicated to kissing him all over, caressing where his hands could reach from inner thighs to the lower stomach, each touch delicate but firm in nature. Those sensations were driving Ruki over edge. Was it an addiction? Being attached to someone without being dependent on them, adoring without obsessing, missing while knowing when to opt for room. It was all about love, Ruki had learned that over time, but for once he didn't really feel like thinking about those trivialities as Aoi planted a kiss on his collarbone, prompting Ruki to spread his legs for better fit. He opened a little tube he had a moment ago pulled from the drawer on right side of the bed, along with a condom.  
Ruki watched as Aoi coated three of his fingers with lube and bent down to kiss him again while slowly pushing the first digit past the muscles. It felt cold and tiny bit of uncomfortable, there was no exception to that, but Ruki was growing impatient. He squinted, stealing another kiss and biting Aoi's lip as a protest earning an amused huff from the man. Regardless, countless amount of comforting kisses and playful battling of tongues managed to fit in those moments of slight pain which the next fingers caused. Ruki panted, swallowing as he wrapped arms around Aoi's neck again and gripped the black mess of hair in his fingers. That was Ruki's sign for him, silently granting a permission to go on. They never spoke while making love to each other. Their evenings silent yet beyond words since the very first groping encounter.

Aoi's fingers fiddled to rip open the aluminium packaging and Ruki could see how short his patience was running, yet he didn't skip even one step, Ruki's comfort and safety first and foremost in his mind. He offered the author smile through the hair sticking to the sides of his face and sat up, kissing the corner of Aoi's mouth as he rolled the protective on it's place. Aoi's eyes were closed, his heartbeat echoing against Ruki's own one.

The first thrust was slow, gentle in the word's meaning in whole. Aoi hang his head panting uncontrollably, Ruki's mouth let out a repressed cry as his legs wrapped around Aoi's waist. Ruki knew the pain wouldn't last longer than couple of minutes and one-hundredth seconds of them and once it passed, he'd feel only the purest pleasure even Aoi couldn't write about.

Ruki groaned low in his throat, onomatopoeic noises mixing with the dormant voices of silence as he felt the strong, yet nothing but gentle moves.

But he needed more and knew Aoi wasn't any different. Ruki gripped his lover's hair more tightly, pulling the strands in firm manner as the pace picked up in response, growing faster. Ruki groaned of pleasure, similar to what escaped from Aoi's lips. His hips answered to every move, dancing wildly against Aoi's body as he got up to almost a sitting position, arms clung tightly around Aoi's shoulders.

In his mind Ruki thought they were like an endless story, reaching for the idea space and the highest heaven only prose could grant.

His nails dug on Aoi's back, drawing images even Ruki had no clue of. Aoi's fingers left marks on his hips, nesting there like it was their designated seat. They made noises without words, telling each other about the experiences of perfection.

Ruki was closer by every given second and the world spun around past his closed eyes as the whole of reality dissolved into one big mass when he came hard on Aoi's stomach. His own orgasm was ridden out shortly, leaving them both worn but content. The author shifted, pulling out slowly to dispose the used protective, throwing it into a trash can in the corner of the room. Placing a fond kiss on Ruki's neck, he rolled beside the younger man. They were coated in sweat, listening in silence as both heartbeats in stages returned to normal, breathing calming in the seconds following.

And Ruki turned to look Aoi in the eyes to ask the same, odd question like always.

"Was I uncertain this time?" He was sure about being with Aoi, sure about loving the man. Uncertainty he found only in persisting and the existence of things, a hesitation before reaching to entwine fingers with one another. Yet he repeated the question, almost neurotic about it. At first Ruki hadn't been sure about anything, not even Aoi nor the love he felt for the man. It was more of a habit by now, but Ruki couldn't tell whether it was bad or acceptable. Nevertheless Aoi never judged nor got mad at him for silly inquiries as such.  
"The only one uncertain and unsure of us anymore, is me. When I'm scared of you disappearing one day, Ruki." He said in thoughtful voice and Ruki laughed light-heartedly.  
"Have I ever told you I'd disappear? I'm your muse. I won't disappear or leave as long as you won't drown in silence", he spoke, “it's a mutual promise, don't you dare to forget your part of it”, and grinned satisfied with the answer. Aoi couldn't but smile with a sound, not answering with words anymore. Running his fingers through Ruki's hair, the man snuggled closer, foreheads colliding gently in a meeting.  
"You're beautiful."  
"You too."

Ruki touched Aoi's mess of raven hair, brushing one finger over his soft lips as the man closed his eyes to the touch. Touching was a whole lot, way more than listening to the silence or speaking to the wordless. Touching was safety and all the good you could ever think about, if you did it right.

Touching was so much and so uncertain until you got used to it. Touches given as though on the skin and heart both the greatest phenomenon there was and so easy to get wrong.

Touching was quantum. First touch quantum uncertainty. Afterwards, just quantum.

And there lied the infinity and two artists. Him and Aoi in their two-room-flat and silent evenings while Ruki learnt to trust and let himself feel again. It was quantum.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I think that when I as teen came to write both this and Watermarks, I was secretly controlled by fate so that years later I'd have to sit down in my twenties as epitome of my own muses, brows forming a furrow as I gaze down at my drink. 
> 
> By the way I want their relationship. Is it possible to be jealous of your own muse?


End file.
